My Country - My People ( Epic Poem ) Canto - 1

Seshendra Sharma 1927 (Nagarazupadu Village : AP : India) – 2007 (Hyderabad : India)



CANTO  1
A hand rises out of the dawn, the hand of the toiler of time, it is raised dipped in the Blood and sweat of human fields; it scatters sindoor to long shadows and distances. I open my eyes and from my little window greet the birds and clouds, flying about in the air. I fling a sigh at them that all my dreams are only their wings. I share the loving gift of Sun, my day, with them. I am born out of the grain, I live for the grain and dead I go back into the grain. I make Poems with molecules of sounds and like glasses Made out of particles of sand, lilt them into tunes. With yarn which dreams of colours, weave saris to drape women of my country and   Release them like butterflies in the meadows of Human life. I make ships, launch them in the oceans, to carry and go flying my people’s flags: I lay roads into dreams, I build mansions Into the clouds, with my life I raise massive walls On the frontiers of my country, high into the chest Of our enemies; I give shapes, forms and voices to rocks and release them from silences. I plough all the Fields of human life; what beauty has I not Created with this hand! What thing on earth did Not surrender to this hand? But this hand has remained ever empty! I had no place in bygone history and the Present history has no scruples. Why I build dams, Why I till lands, I do not know! I live in zero, but I walk along. Man is the walking tree, whose roots have changed into legs. Had I remained a tree, I could have
 
had A spring every year; having become a man, I have Lost all the springs on earth. From my childhood, trees have been growing, roads have been walking, towns and villages have been jumping and dancing in joy, but I walk alone with empty hands in my country; where I have nothing of my own, only my memories to follow behind me, with myself as the leader of the procession and my burning red desire, flying as my flag
* * *
Moments are not the retinue of time. There is one which decides the turning point of mankind. I can’t hand over to sighs that time which stands and beckons me. To hell with the shades to recline and chew the gum of past. Remember, the storms do not count for a life which strides with hills and shifts oceans; the fiercest storms blow off while Struggles of life flit around like flies. Look! Drunk on pearls of sweat, the sun grows large and formidable bestows millions sickles and hammers of light. In history where savage winds blow in cantos, I cannot be like the braches of trees that remain trembling in the hands Of unrelenting winds. Do not query why so restless, ask the ocean why it is restless. Do not say why so furious; ask the hurricane for the answer. Know, that time after all is my paper, upon which I write the Charter of my dreams for the world, sculpture a colossus of force Out of man;

my will, will shout and throw a new era on the earth- It shall confer unrest on man and Flow like red-hot blood through all the roads of our villages and make him into a sea and into a tempestuous storm. I shall gift that consciousness to my country with my four dimensional poems…. Now, centuries will speak the language, which I learnt in the wombs of forests; My word will be the legacy to future generations; my poems, only countries and nations deserve
                                              * * *
 Last year’s spring flowed away like a river; into which orchards it meandered and slept, I do not know But the spring returned, searching for the mango tree in the backyard of my house! Everything in the world is fleeting, yet keeps returning, searching for the beautiful. Behind the leaves in the branches I see footsteps of birds, marks of the moments which flew away last year. in my tired journey, my tavern is the shade of a tree, and the guest is the fallen flower. This is spring, the year’s first dream, in which I trudge my way on the body of my country like the dream that preludes the dawn, covering my nakedness forest, tying the rivers as my turbans, carrying my road on my shoulders. I walk, coaxing the fields that are crying; I walk, yearning to sculpture my country’s hills that have waited for forms, into lions, into elephants and camels..Into workers, toilers, tillers, lovers and into epics that are like their crowns.the sun is coming with loads of morning rays stacked on bullock carts! The tree that saw me first and shed tears, now rained flowers on my dream.
                                                     - Seshendra Sharma
                          http://seshendrasharma.weebly.com

About this poem

MY COUNTRY – MY PEOPLE Modern Indian Epic This important epic by one the great modern poets of India is written by a civilisation not by one man. This masterpiece brings Seshendra into prominence as one of the outstanding poets of this century. For writing this epic Seshendra has simplified his diction to reach his people and to record the impact of an age on the third world. This is the most memorable poems of our times; in its marathon stride the epic sweeps over the drama of the Third world civilisation. The reader will return to this book again and again, he will also find the wound inflicted on him by his adversaries for his genius, wanting to rout him out of his livelihood for being distinguished. A wealth of Poetic Heights My Country – My People is a wealth of poetic heights gathered together in the enormity of epic style , it is the modern form of epic . It is the Indian Epic which becomes the Epic of the entire Mankind touching the peaks of Modern Age. The seeds of the epic are in the womb of Yajurveda which are infact the seeds of Indian Consciousness. Heinrich Zimmer, the German Philosopher, called “Thaitthariya Upanishad ‘the Cosmic Communist Manifesto. It is the essence of this Manifesto that flows as the under – current in My country – My People. - Ali Sardar Jafri , Urdu Poet It was not only Tagore and Gandhi who crossed the frontiers of their country and reached the wider world and achieved universality...... Seshendra's epic poem 'My country My People' is evidence..... some important critics have compared this epic poem with T.S.Eliot's WASTELAND and 'L' ASCENSION' by St. John Perse. Personally I would compare the pain and anguish of the poet with one of Loutremont in his lyric 'Mald Aurore'. The difference is that Seshendra's protest is not made in the void. Seshendra walks firmly on his soil, one can find in the poet a wild whirlwind which attains incredible oratorial heights, creating terrific images... whirling within him is the idea of strength of life that is fighting the dark powers which want to take away its freedom and bread.... at times we observe in the poem a biblical and Prophetic tone that attracts us. NIKHEPHOROS VRETAKKOS (Greet Poet) Dearest Seshen! An epic, a long poem (Which Edgar Allen Poe called a contradiction in terms). But who am I to say No to a poem which chooses to assume the strangest of garbs in one of the finest of minds. So, so be it. Let me accept your OEUVRE as an epic. But why call it modern? it is timeless. Why call it Indian? It is spaceless. SRI SRI Indian poet ------------- Seshendra is colossus of modern Poetry. His literature is a unique blend of the best of poetry and poetics. His Homepage : Seshendra:Visionary Poet of the Millennium http://seshendrasharma.weebly.com presents essence / spirit of the millennium in powerful poetic style. Seshendra Sharma is one of the most outstanding minds of modern Asia. He is the foremost of the Telugu poets today who has turned poetry to the gigantic strides of human history and embellished literature with the thrills and triumphs of the 20th century. A revolutionary poet who spurned the pedestrian and pedantic poetry equally, a brilliant critic and a scholar of Sanskrit, this versatile poet has breathed a new vision of modernity to his vernacular.Such minds place Telugu on the world map of intellectualism. Readers conversant with names like Paul Valery, Gauguin, and Dag Hammarskjold will have to add the name of Seshendra Sharma the writer from India to that dynasty of intellectuals. *** Saatyaki, poet's son's Tribute to his beloved father on his 13th Anniversary *** Seshendra : Visionary Poet of the Millenium http:// seshendrasharma.weebly.com 

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Written on 1975

Submitted by seshendra on August 30, 2021

Modified by seshendra on August 30, 2021

4:10 min read
45

Quick analysis:

Scheme XX X X X AXA
Characters 4,538
Words 833
Stanzas 3
Stanza Lengths 2, 3, 5

Seshendra Sharma

Visionary Poet of the Millennium An Indian poet Prophet Seshendra Sharma October 20th, 1927 - May 30th, 2007 http://seshendrasharma.weebly.com/ https://seshen.tributes.in/ https://www.facebook.com/GunturuSeshendraSharma/ eBooks :http://kinige.com/author/Gunturu+Seshendra+Sharma Rivers and poets Are veins and arteries Of a country. Rivers flow like poems For animals, for birds And for human beings- The dreams that rivers dream Bear fruit in the fields The dreams that poets dream Bear fruit in the people- * * * * * * The sunshine of my thought fell on the word And its long shadow fell upon the century Sun was playing with the early morning flowers Time was frightened at the sight of the martyr- -Seshendra Sharma "We are children of a century which has seen revolutions, awakenment of large masses of people over the earth and their emancipation from slavery and colonialism wresting equality from the hands of brute forces and forging links of brotherhood across mankind. This century has seen peaks of human knowledge; unprecedented intercourse of peoples and perhaps for the first time saw the world stand on the brink of the dilemma of one world or destruction. It is a very inspiring century, its achievements are unique. A poet who is not conscious of this context fails in his existence as poet." -Seshendra Sharma (From his introduction to his “Poet’s notebook "THE ARC OF BLOOD" ) * * * * * * B.A: Andhra Christian College: Guntur: A.P: India B.L : Madras University: Madras Deputy Municipal Commissioner (37 Years) Dept of Municipal Administration, Government of Andhra Pradesh Parents: G.Subrahmanyam (Father) ,Ammayamma (Mother) Siblings: Anasuya,Devasena (Sisters),Rajasekharam(Younger brother) Wife: Mrs.Janaki Sharma Children: Vasundhara , Revathi (Daughters), Vanamaali ,Saatyaki (Sons) Seshendra Sharma is one of the most outstanding minds of modern Asia. He is the foremost of the Telugu poets today who has turned poetry to the gigantic strides of human history and embellished literature with the thrills and triumphs of the 20th century. A revolutionary poet who spurned the pedestrian and pedantic poetry equally, a brilliant critic and a scholar of Sanskrit, this versatile poet has breathed a new vision of modernity to his vernacular.Such minds place Telugu on the world map of intellectualism. Readers conversant with names like Paul Valery, Gauguin, and Dag Hammarskjold will have to add the name of Seshendra Sharma the writer from India to that dynasty of intellectuals. * * * Seshendra Sharma better known as Seshendra isa colossus of Modern Indian poetry. His literature is a unique blend of the best of poetry and poetics. Diversity and depth of his literary interests and his works are perhaps hitherto unknown in Indian literature. From poetry to poetics, from Mantra Sastra to Marxist Politics his writings bear an unnerving pprint of his rare genius. His scholarship and command over Sanskrit , English and Telugu Languages has facilitated his emergence as a towering personality of comparative literature in the 20th century world literature. T.S.Eliot ,ArchbaldMacleish and Seshendra Sharma are trinity of world poetry and Poetics. His sense of dedication to the genre of art he chooses to express himself and the determination to reach the depths of subject he undertakes to explore place him in the galaxy of world poets / world intellectuals. Seshendra’seBooks :http://kinige.com/author/Gunturu+Seshendra+Sharma Seshendra Sharma’s Writings Copyright © Saatyaki S/o Seshendra Sharma Contact :saatyaki@gmail.com+919441070985+917702964402 ------------------------ Seshendra Sharma : Scholar - Poet Seshendra Sharma, a scholar - poet was born (October 20, 1927) into a Pujari ( Priests ) family in Nellore District in the state of Andhra Pradesh in India . Seshendra’s father and his grandfather were well versed in Sanskrit Literature, Vedas and scriptures. At home itself, thus from his childhood , Seshendra got the opportunity of learning and training in Sanskrit. This was further nurtured by the Village school of Thotapalligudur, where he spent best part of his childhood. Seshendra’s father was a well-to-do person, a Munsif ( village officer ) of the village, possessing more than Ten Acres of agricultural Wet land and own house . Father’s desire to see his son flower into a top man turned a new leaf in Seshendra’s life. Seshendra’s father admitted him for B.A. Graduation course in Andhra Christian College in Guntur. Incidentally, Seshendra’s Family Sir Name and this town’s name are one and the same. This is a turning point in the budding poet’s journey. Seshendra got significant exposure to the Western World, particularly to the Western Literature. The makings of a Visionary Poet germinated in him in this Alma Mater. His journey of poetry started with Translation more…

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